


A Wonderful Night

by bigsunglasses



Category: Albanian Fairy Tales, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, The Girl Who Became a Boy (Albanian Fairy Tale)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, Other, Post-Canon, Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigsunglasses/pseuds/bigsunglasses
Summary: After five nights of no contact with her mysterious new husband, the princess wasn't expecting much from the sixth night ...





	A Wonderful Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Port](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port/gifts).



> Thanks to s. and e. for brainstorming and feedback!

Anna finally left the lace-and-silk underthings in her wardrobe on the sixth night of her marriage. Instead she donned a comfortable linen nightgown she'd owned for the better part of a year, so comfortable and soft that it did not really feel like she was wearing anything. After she gave them one long, flat stare, her maidservants stopped tittering, but her ladies-in-waiting did not take the hint, and she could not quash them like she wished for fear of causing political repercussions. One of them murmured steadily in her ear about places to touch on the male body that would infallibly cause a certain longed-for reaction; the other two ladies-in-waiting did not murmur, or whisper, or even attempt discretion, and sent the now rigidly-solemn maidservants running for herbs, ointments and the lace-and-silk underthings. "No," said Anna politely, when these were pressed upon her.

"But, Princess - " 

"No, thank you." If her new husband had not been tempted for five nights in a row by those beautiful underthings, why should the sixth night be different? Anna intended to get a good night's sleep for the first time in a long time. Her husband did not snore, which she was genuinely pleased about; neither did he touch her, and she now intended to make the most of this. She ordered the maids brush her hair into a long loose plait for the night, just as if she was a maiden again, and then dismissed them all firmly. 

"Do you not want company until his Highness arrives?" all the ladies-in-waiting asked, individually, and she answered in the negative to each one. When the door to the corridor finally shut on the last mutters and skirt-swirls, she flopped into the big marital bed and took a great breath. 

Almost simultaneously, as if he had been waiting and listening, the door to the adjoining chamber opened, revealing her husband. His nightshirt hung loosely to his knees and for once he had left off his stockings, though he did wear slippers. As always there was a wary tightness to his shoulders, as if he was awaiting a blow. She did not understand why a hero would carry himself so. He was handsome and clever and brave and kind … 

"Good evening, husband," she said.

"Good evening, wife."

"I hope you are well?" Ladies did not involve themselves with the workings of the court, but Anna’s father had left her with a distinct impression that he was regretting allowing her to get married so hastily to a stranger (heroic though he was). And where her father regretted, he lacked inhibitions. There had to be a reason her husband was sent off on a ridiculously difficult quest every day, breaking the sacred bridal period. She herself felt just a trifle frustrated and sad that she was tied for life to a man who would not touch her, but at least he was kind and respectful; over the years ahead she thought that would prove very valuable. Respect endured where desire didn’t, judging by her observations of elders; and respect seemed to be vanishingly rare among her own generation.

"I am quite well - never better," he responded, and cast himself into a chair by the fire. The ladies-in-waiting had left some whitework sewing on the chair’s arm; he folded it neatly and placed it in a nearby basket. "It has been a most eventful day. And how are you?"

"Oh, quite well - never better," she responded lightly, tucking her chilly feet up under the sheets. "But I am afraid it has been rather uneventful here – just as a lady’s life should be. I have nothing to talk about."

"I am sorry to hear that."

She faked a yawn, curled up against the pillow, and said, "Good night."

"Is it?"

Her eyes popped open, though since she was facing away from him he would not see it. She debated leaving his odd remark unanswered, but eventually couldn't resist. "Isn't it?"

"I know that ... that you have not been happy, these past mornings. Your father has observed it. The court has observed it."

She thought of the unguents, lace, silk and herbs all stuffed in a chest nearby, and flushed. "I'm aware. There is no privacy at court."

"And - " He cleared his throat. "I know why you have not been happy."

"You do?"

"I have not done my duty by you, as a husband."

Anna stared off at the wall. This was thoroughly unexpected. "No?" she said uncertainly. It must be permissible for a wife to discuss such things with her spouse, but she was stuck for words.

"I have not felt myself able to speak before - but now I can - " He cleared his throat again. _He's nervous,_ Anna realised, surprised. Why should heroes be nervous? "And I wished - I wish - more than anything - to assure you that I desire you."

_Oh._

_Oh, goodness._ Anna curled tighter into the bed, eyes wider. _I desire you._ She felt like she'd sunk into a hot bath. 

"When I jumped the moat, I had no thought beyond accomplishing a dashing feat. I could have ridden away with the apple still in my hand. But when I saw you, my heart was lost. I have undergone many trials these past days. From each I could have departed and never come to this kingdom again. But I wished always to return to you at night, to see your face and hear your sweet breaths the night through."

She could hardly breathe. She sat bolt upright, staring at his face. His eyes were wide with honest urgency, his body inclined towards her. "But why did you not say so before?" she cried, heightened emotion bursting through her walls of politeness. "Why have you remained so distant? For I have desired you also."

She could hear the jerk in his breath. "Princess. You desire such as me?"

"A hero with a heart of gold! How could I not?" She slipped out of the bed and went to where he sat by the fire. His hair fell soft and loose around his head. He seemed quite frozen when she ran her fingers through it, like she'd been longing to do. "Will you not touch me also?" she asked softly.

He stretched out his hand and laid it lightly as a feather against her waist. He had thin, long fingers, nicked with cuts from battle. Looking at it resting against the white linen, feeling the warmth soaking through to her skin, Anna's heart started beating a waltz of excitement. 

"I know they've asked you every morning - and you've said nothing happened - "

"They look at my sheets. I cannot lie." She did not want him to keep talking, wanted to capitalise on this sweet new warmth running between them, but was too shy to kiss him first. "I am so sorry if my father has been unpleasant to you ... "

"It isn't your place to be sorry." He rose to his feet, and her hands slipped from his hair. He was exactly her height; some courtiers had laughed at that (a hero should be tall), but she loved it, found it deliciously intimate. And wasn’t it somehow even more inspiring, that a hero should be just a little ordinary too?

And on that thought, she finally found the courage to kiss him on that soft pink mouth that she had been watching for days. Her whole body felt like it sparkled when his arms folded around her in response. She got her own arms around his neck, and it was the sweetest, easiest thing in the world, and yet rushingly exciting at the same time, two warm bodies folding together without a shadow between them, passing a kiss back and forth until they were both breathless. In stumbling twirls they reached the bed, and he pushed Anna’s nightgown up until it was bunched around her armpits, stroking her waist and flanks and breasts with warm tender fingers, sketching magic on her skin. When his mouth followed his hands she thought she might cry with astonished bliss. How had she never imagined _this_ before? A mouth pressing kisses along the curve of one breast, then butterflying across the delicate skin of her stomach, then doing such clever, eager things between her legs that she burst open like a sunrise … 

In the aftermath Anna felt soft and trembly, her heart light. For several minutes she lay in the curve of her husband's arm and thought she never wanted to be anywhere else ever again. Her only concern sprang from a consciousness that these sorts of activities were meant to be mutually pleasurable, and what she had just experienced was but a taste. She wriggled a little, and then ran her hand down his side, the slight ripple of ribs beneath his nightshirt. That garment was rucked up a little - she found her hand moving onto the soft bare skin of his hip. Her heart, just starting to slow, began to pick up again. There was a dampness beneath her questing touch ... 

"I don't have much control yet," said her husband.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it will take a while before I'm ready to do this again."

"Again?"

He laughed, rumbly and low, and because she was sprawled against his chest she could feel it intensely. "I have had my fulfillment just from bringing yours about. I didn't expect that."

In this glowing intimacy, Anna traced her fingers across his male member quite without shyness but with great curiosity. It was soft and warm. He gasped and shivered, and then said, shakily, "Do that again." She obliged. He moaned a little, and pressed his free hand against his mouth as his eyes fluttered shut. Anna was fairly sure she had made just the same expression not so long ago, and giggled. She squirmed and sat upright, stroking his member more firmly. It seemed to be thickening and rising.

"So soon?" said her husband, voice breaking into a squeak on the last syllable. Why he should be so surprised Anna didn't know, but she concentrated on light stroking touches until there it was, standing firm and proud, even better than the ideas she had long imagined from overheard conversations.

He was staring down the length of his body at this achievement. "It's beautiful," he said. 

"Yes," agreed Anna, who was now feeling an almost overwhelming desire to straddle his hips and impale herself. All her pleasant lassitude was gone; an equally pleasant urgency had taken its place.

"'I didn't ... " He paused, looked at Anna with a suddenly tense expression, and then said slowly, "I didn't know it would be."

Anna turned that around in her mind a few times. "Are you a virgin too?" she asked, amazed.

"Actually, yes, but - " He nearly choked on his words as Anna stroked him again. Oh, she liked this feeling of bringing him pleasure. 

“Anna - ” He grasped her wrist and gently pushed her hand away, with visible regret. “I want this too, but I don’t – I mean – I need to talk to you.”

“We’ve been married five nights already if you wished to talk,” she said, a little fractiously, but lay down against him again to soothe the sting from her words. “Very well, husband; I will listen.”

“Tell me so by name,” he replied.

 _By name_ … “Oh,” she said curiously. She had sworn her marriage vows to the Hero of the Apple Tree. “What was your name, before you became a hero?”

“Elira.”

Anna hesitated, looked at the very clear evidence of masculinity in her sightline, and said, “Your parents wished they’d had a daughter, perhaps?”

“No. They named me Elira for very ordinary reasons.”

She racked her brain. “But it’s a girl’s name … “

"It is. I was - I am - a girl. I'm still a bit confused about that," he added, and laughed jerkily.

"Confusion or not," said Anna, "you are going to have to explain as much as you can."

He obliged. She listened carefully and with some wonder, she thought that she badly wanted to meet his horse, and then she said, "Do you mind? Being a man now?"

"I don't know," he said. "That largely depends on your reaction." His arm around her tightened slightly. "I have been so sad, these past nights, that I haven't been able to do my marital duty by you."

"There would have been nothing to stop you doing what you just did," Anna said, suddenly rather indignant. "That was the most amazing, lovely thing - " She felt herself turning pink from the memory. "Did I thank you yet? It was magical."

"You don't seem to be taking this seriously," he scolded. "I could not have given you children, or - "

"Well, I should like children," Anna agreed cheerfully. She nuzzled her cheek against his chest. "Husband, I'm sorry you don't think I'm taking this seriously, but although it's decidedly original, I'm sure other heroes have undergone even stranger transformations on their quests, and I just haven't heard of them before. You are _my_ hero, and I like everything about you. But if you don't like it, you could visit the snakes again - I would love to accompany you. Why, you could visit them several times a year."

He was silent for a moment. "I hadn't thought of that. But though in my heart I think I’ll always be a woman, this body feels infinitely comfortable already, as if it’s the shape I’ve always needed to be – like this I can do so many of the things I’ve always wanted to do; that matters most. ”

“I hope you won’t be on quests _all_ the time,” Anna said wistfully, feeling that there had been enough discussion for now, and reaching down to touch him again. “I will miss you.”

“Not _all_ the time – not with you to come back to - or you could come with me- “ And there was that little choking moan. She grinned to herself and kept moving her hand. She had a man with the heart of a woman – something she had never thought to want, and something that now seemed so perfect she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. No wonder he had seemed so amazingly kind and respectful, in comparison all the knights who had tried to win her hand before.

She sat up, and straddled him, and began to feel her gentle way downwards. Their eyes locked. She saw the woman in the curve of his lips, the softness of his cheeks; she smiled. “Elira,” she said, testing the name, finding her own voice very trembly. “My heroic Elira.”

“My princess,” her husband replied, and reached up to grip Anna’s hips. “Thank you for not caring.”

“Oh, but I do care,” she said. “I care a great deal. I care for _you_.” And she bent, very slowly, to kiss her beloved.


End file.
